Unspoken
by Heroes Fly-Minho's Hero Limps
Summary: Prequel to Guilty Pleasure. The first time Minho met his new assistant certainly was interesting.


-Here it is: a little one-shot of Minho Park meeting his new assistant. And we all know where this leads to, right guys? ;)-

-Unspoken-

Glade City was beautiful in the afternoon. The sun was sinking low on the horizon, staining the sky above pale oranges and rosy pinks. The windows of every skyscraper and building were reflecting the sunset like flame. Cars rumbled past below, back and forth, back and forth. It turned the city into a firework display of light and steel.

Minho wouldn't trade this for anything.

He was standing at the huge windows, at the back of his office. The gray walls were behind him, his sprawling desk was behind him, but this was in front of him. It was all he wanted to look at. Sighing slightly, he connected his hands behind his back. He always did that when he thought. Right now, despite the lovely view in front of him, a million thoughts were firing through his mind, as usual: need that paperwork done, send that project to Edison, get Diana to stop turning in things late, pay Charleston, call Dad...

The list went on and on. There was never a free moment of time for Minho Park. He inwardly dreaded that last one though. Calling his dad...ugh. A condescending voice on the other end of the phone and him suffering through the constant disapproval. He was sick of it. It wasn't his fault that his father had left Park Industries early; Minho ran the business now, and his father was going to have to get used to it.

"Even if he hates me for inheriting it from him," he muttered to himself bitterly. His mother would've set his father straight. Absently, Minho played with the silver chain hidden just beneath his collar.

A polite knock at the large, double doors behind him made him drop his hand. "Mr. Park?" a tentative voice called. "Do you have a few minutes before your next meeting?"

"I do, but not much," Minho said over his shoulder. He recognized that light voice. "What is it, Brenda?"

"I've interviewed a new assistant for you," the woman, Brenda, replied. "He's here now and I was hoping you could at least meet him, even if it was only for a moment."

Ah. The new assistant. He'd nearly forgotten about that. Minho hardly ever had enough time to hire and fire on his own, so he often assigned someone else to do it for him. Besides, after the fiasco with his last assistant (the crazy woman had flirted with and touched him shamelessly), he wasn't eager to start looking for another himself. "All right," he called back. "I have some time. Come in."

"Thank you, Mr. Park." The humble reply came and then the doors were gliding open silently. Minho didn't turn, mainly because he wanted to look at the city for just a moment longer. He heard Brenda's heels clacking on the floor first and could imagine her long, bronze ponytail swinging as she walked; she was the only woman in this place that didn't wear her hair in a painful bun. After that came quieter steps. Minho instantly labeled the new assistant: shy as hell.

"Mr. Park, this is your new assistant," Brenda announced, presumably stopping at Minho's desk, "Isaac Newton."

Smoothing down the front of his suit jacket ("first impressions are important, Minho!" Rin Park's voice echoed), Minho tore his gaze from the city and turned around. He was about to say some sort of greeting, but the words froze on his tongue. Oh my God.

Isaac Newton was gorgeous. He was this—this—lanky little blonde, standing next to Brenda in her crimson dress like he was intimidated by the shorter girl. His black suit contrasted in such a lovely way with his creamy skin and he had impossibly dark blue eyes. Eyes like summer storms or wind-tossed waves or snow at night. His hair looked like he'd tried to style it, but it was still a bit rumpled and dear Lord, it was like he'd just been in bed. Minho had labeled him right; he was very shy, peeking at Minho from under golden lashes, a tinge of blush in his cheeks, and Christ, those kissable lips...

Wait, what?

Minho mentally shook himself. "H—Hello." Horrified, he thought, did I just stutter?

Isaac's lips tilted up into a slight smile. "Hello," he replied uncertainly.

Beside him, Brenda raised her eyebrows at Minho in surprise.

Clearing his throat, Minho offered his hand. "Minho Park. Though you probably know who I am already."

"I do." Isaac shook his new boss's hand and Minho felt the tingles the whole way up his arm. What was happening to him? "I appreciate the chance to work here."

"So you've gotten the job then? Brenda always does choose well and I trust her." Minho slanted his smile at Brenda then and she warmed under the praise. He was snagging back some of his confidence now.

"Thank you." Newt's blush deepened charmingly.

"The interview went very well," Brenda put in. "He graduated from Haven College, straight A's."

"I'm impressed," Minho remarked, turning back to Isaac. "You'll do well here then."

Making an attempt at lighthearted humor, Isaac replied, "I hope so. I mean, I'm glad to have the opportunity, Mr. Park."

Minho almost flinched at the name. He would've loved to hear that rich, British-accented voice form his first name. "And I'm glad to give the opportunity, Isaac."

There was a shift in Isaac's expression then and a kink in his smile. "Oh, um, you can call me—" Abruptly, he broke off, sensing he'd spoken out of turn. "Sorry."

Brenda tipped her head slightly and Minho blinked. "No, what is it?" he asked encouragingly.

Isaac's eyes slid away and then back again. "I was going to say you could call me by my nickname," he admitted. "Newt. But I realize that's not appropriate..."

Newt. Yes, it was inappropriate to call the assistant by his nickname. But Minho did like the sound of it. "Maybe not," he admitted. "But don't hesitate to bring something up to me next time. I'm not hard on my employees, no matter what the news says." To make this point, he smiled warmly.

At the sight of that smile, Newt shifted his foot and dropped his gaze briefly. Noting the way those blue eyes weren't gone for long, Minho felt foolishly pleased. He likes me, he thought. But of course he did. Everyone was attracted to Minho.

He was just...never attracted to them.

Newt's gaze was lifting up again, but this time, it locked with Minho's. For an eternal moment, they looked at each other, something unspoken and unknown passing between them. Minho's mouth went dry. What was this beautiful, beautiful blonde doing to him?

Brenda's sudden voice cut through his trance. "Mr. Park," she warned. "You'll be late for your meeting."

"Oh. Of course." Minho forced his attention off of Newt, and then back again. "I'm sorry to cut this short. But I look forward to working with you."

"Me too," Newt replied, and then hurriedly added, "thank you again, Mr. Park." He was freaking blushing again.

Yep. Shy as hell.

Minho didn't know why, but he had a feeling this new assistant would do just fine.

And he vowed to get Newt to call him "Minho" just once. Because surely, that was he could ever dare to hope for.

After all, he could hardly be expected to risk all of this for an assistant...


End file.
